Epidemic
by Moonphase
Summary: Something evil is twisting its way through Townsville. But if the Powerpuff girls don't defeat it, they will lose the thing they hold most dear. Who has caused this? Why is this happening? And can you save the day in a post-apocolyptic world? PPG, RRB, Mitch and a load of angst.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Something dark and evil is twisting its way through Townsville. But if they don't defeat it, they will lose the thing they hold most dear. Who has caused this? Why is this happening? Will the day be saved?

**The City of...! *cough* *cough* *cough*!**

**Ugh...ugh...I'm dory...ugh...I'm not very dwell...*cough* *cough***

**Ah...you all dknow the drill...just show, *cough* *cough* yourselves adround...AAAaaaachoo!**

The expanse of Townsville's city-line had never looked more tranquil. Pale blue, cloudless sky reflected off the monumental sky-scrapers glassy exteriors. All was quiet. There was no murmured chatter within the walls of the usually busy office buildings. There was hum of traffic in or out of the city; the few cars that were in the city sat stationary and unused. No one walked the streets, no people, or children, not even the little talking dog.

The only sound was the gentle Summer breeze flowing between the branches of trees, capturing the scent of their blossoms and leaves and spreading it through the streets. A few pieces of paper were lifted off the ground and strung along by the wind, making look as if the papers were dancing.

There were no monsters coming to destroy the City. In fact, the monsters had stopped coming all together two months previously. No one knew why but no-one had cared. They were just glad the attacks had stopped.

In Townsville's outskirts the quiet prevails. Pokey oaks kindergarten is empty. A note, hastily written in black marker pen on scrap paper is tacked onto the front door. It reads "Too ill. No class today. Try again tomorrow." On the window and in the classroom a thin layer of dust offers some insight in how long it has gone unused.

Out in the suburbs are vast mazes of small cul-de-sacs; rows and rows of houses, all clones of one another, line the desolate roads. In the eerie silence it is here that there is finally some sign of life. Inside all the houses are the sounds of weak coughing, of exhausted sneezes, of people being physically sick.

A little boy, covered in grime (which bares testament to his lack of general cleanliness,) and wearing dirty clothes with a harried facial expression, rides his beaten up bicycle through the classy neighbourhood. He stops outside of the Utonium Household; the home of the Powerpuff Girls.

Mitch rapped on the door desperately, wiping the sweat away from his forehead. Never had the small ten-year-old looked so distressed.

After repeated, impatient raps the door finally opened and a pre-pubescent Bubbles looked anxiously out. She was wearing a small mask over her mouth, like the ones the Mexicans had during the Bird Flu Epidemic.

"Mitch?" She exclaimed, her high-pitched voice muffled.

"Hiya Bubbles." His raspy voice carried undertones of worry. "Look my mom, my mom is really ill!"

"Well...everyone's parent is ill," answered Bubbles fighting the urge not to roll her eyes. Mitch's own were filling quickly with tears. "No, I mean," he paused, his voice catching in his throat, "I mean...she's _really_ ill. She's not going to make it! Please, the Professor, he knows stuff...he must have a cure! By now he must!"

Bubbles shook her head and backed away, recognising after so many weeks of The Sickness when a person was becoming crazy with desperation. She didn't like having to fight people when they got like that. It wasn't their fault they felt so stressed, helpless and, above all else, frightened.

Mitch stepped forward, getting himself one step further to being in their home.

"The Professor hasn't been able to discover anything," Bubbled whimpered praying she would not cry, "because the Professor is ill as well! Really ill."

Mitch was silent for a moment, looking at the floor, before slowly raising his eyes to meet hers. Chocolate brown met azalea blue.

"Is he being sick?" Mitch asked, his voice low and disturbingly adult. The last time Bubbles had seen Mitch, they had all been in Pokey Oaks Middle School and Mitch had been competing with other dirty boys to see how far they could flick their own boogers. That seemed a lifetime away now.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice just a low and barely intelligible with the mask. "He started to be sick last night."

Mitch suddenly looked inconsolably sad. Bubbles was disturbed to see pity in his eyes also. Mitch felt sorry for her?

He laid his hand on her arm. "Then it's nearly the end."

She pulled back horrified and demanding to know what he meant.

With a sigh, Mitch explained, "in the trailer park...back home...the dogs all started getting ill just before we did. Then...then when they started being sick, after a few days, they would die. They died, Bubbles. We had to take our dogs all the way out into the dump and then," he paused and rubbed at his eyes, determined not to cry, "and we set fire to them. We couldn't even bury them. We didn't want to contaminate anyone or anything."

"But then, people started getting sick. After a few days, they weren't dead, and with your dad working on the sickness we thought we were ok. We thought maybe the dogs had something different, or a more vicious and deadly version of this...disease. But we were wrong." He looked at the brick wall to the side of Bubbles. "It just takes us bit longer to die. It starts with the coughing and sneezing, then the cramps and diarrhoea. The final part is them being sick. Then...then it's done. My mom is sick. She's being sick..."

Bubbles felt her knees go weak, as if they had turned to water and the world slanted. She fell to the floor, her legs in an ungraceful heap. The Professor was being sick, right now...

"First there was Marie," Mitch continued, ruthlessly shoving reality into her face. "Then there was Clancy, Marie's husband. It went across to the Stevens, to the Wakefields. Always the same, the women died first, then the men. It's spreading slowly...but it is spreading."

She looked up at him, her eyes dimmed and unfocused. "It's no longer in the Trailer park," Mitch explained. He motioned up and down the empty streets. "It's started happening to the people in the Suburbs. I'm sorry." He looked in the direction from which he came, his jaw set. Again, Bubbles was amazed by how much older he seemed, after just a few weeks of when she last saw him. "I need to go home, then," he muttered, more to himself than her. "If the Professor is sick as well...and there is no cure...I-I need to be with my mom."

Slowly, like an old man, he climbed onto his bike and rode away.

**A/N- Just a quick note. I have decided to make the characters a little bit older. Even though the Powerpuff Girls were very mature for five-year olds, because of the nature of this story I decided to make them a bit older. I also thought it would be cool (I always was curious about 'Older' PPG's.)**

**Thank you for reading, please leave a comment and I sincerely hoped you enjoyed this chapter. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Bubbles stayed still on the floor for a few minutes after Mitch left. She ripped off her mask and inhaled deeply. She didn't care about the Sickness, she needed to breathe because she was fairly certain she would faint any otherwise.

The cool breeze had died down. The air was still. Underneath the scent of summer flowers and tree blossoms Bubbled now detected the underlying scent of sickness, decay and death. Did she smell the dead from the trailer park and city dumps? Or the dead from other, unknown places?

"_Now is no time for weakness_," she thought desperately, trying to make her legs work once more. They were not co-operating, as if they were life-forms in their own right and were still stunned by Mitch's revelation.

As she sat there, trying to make herself stir, she could hear the weak coughs and whimpers and pained sighs of all the adults. She could hear the constant 'pitter-patter' of children were running around, trying to make their parents better, making food and getting them water and keeping them warm. At first, when things really started going bad, Blossom had organised the children of the suburb. She had made sure that all the adults were being looked after, including the ones with no children. She also made sure that parents who only had babies or small children had someone checking up on them. Had Blossom not been around, Bubbles was certain that some families would have simply starved, unable to feed themselves as the Sickness racked its way through their bodies. But then when the Professor got ill, the girls had spent all their time looking after him. Were the rest of the children ok?

It had been just under three weeks ago that the Sickness began. Going about their everyday lives, the girls and their friends had noticed that some sort of bug or flu was going around. Usually these things spread between the children. But this Sickness was unusual; only adults were affected. No one had thought too much of it. It was only flu and would be gone in a few days.

But then, because everyone was ill, things stopped happening. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten was closed down first, Miss Keen being too ill to teach. Then a few days later, so was the Primary School the girls went to. All the kids had been happy, even the Powerpuff Girls, (though Blossom tried to be sad as she would miss lessons and Bubbles had cried because she missed her teachers. The only one who was unashamedly gleeful was Buttercup.) It was like the Summer Break had come early.

Then the shops began to close down; all the independent and convenience stores, followed by the huge, multi-national outlets. The entire Mall shut down within little more than a week. At first the young people of Townsville complained because it was boring. What was the good in an early Summer break when there was nowhere to go? But then, things got worse. All of the main businesses closed. The last to give up were the banks. On the final day before Townsville simply broke down, some people had been on their way to work. But they were so ill they had collapsed behind the wheel of their car or fallen onto the streets. The Girls had flown around, working alongside the ill and exhausted Emergency services to get the unfortunate commuters to hospital. Cars had been left abandoned on roads. Two weeks into the Sickness and the whole of Townsville was closed down.

Then it had spread into the suburbs.

"All the workers from the city," Bubbles thought whilst rubbing her face, "they bought the Sickness back here with them. To people like the Professor who never go into the City normally. Who would have been safe, probably, any otherwise."

After witnessing people collapsed in their cars, the Utonium family understood the serious nature of the illness. For the first time, the girls actually watched the news. They even waited for it to come on. No one knew how the illness was spread, whether the air, or by human contact. They did not know if it had originated with animals, like how the Great Plague from Medieval England had begun with the ticks on rats.

"Well, the Trailer Park dogs went first." Bubbles tried to remember if they had seen any ill or collapsed dogs in Townsville. They had not. In fact, she couldn't really remember seeing any animals. Neither Cats nor dogs nor pigeons... she remembered nothing of seeing animals. They had been too focused on helping people at the time.

At the start of the third week, just five days ago, the newscaster announced that Townsville had been on lock down on order of the White House. They couldn't afford the illness spreading, so the whole city had been cordoned off. On the inside, Professor Utonium was working with scientists on the outside via the internet to try and discover what the Sickness was and how the prevent it.

But then, just three days ago, he got sick.

And now he was throwing up.

Heaving herself on to her feet, Bubbled swayed but a little before replacing her mask and closing the door. Despite her hopes, things had gotten worse. She fought the urge to scream out for the Professor whilst flying weeping up the stairs. Instead she flew quietly, a determined expression on her face.

They would not let the professor die. And they would save as many as possible.

Buttercup was standing outside of the Professors room looking serious. Her fair haired sister flew down next to her.

"Who was at the door?" rasped out Buttercup, though she didn't actually care. The Professor had been vomiting up anything they tried to feed him. It was totally gross and... very disturbing. When would the Sickness end? Had anyone gotten better yet? Was this normal?

As if hearing her thoughts, Bubbles answered, "no one is getting better." Buttercup looked at her sharply. Bubbles looked crestfallen. Even her pig tails seemed slightly droopy. "They're only getting worse. Mitch came round, looking for a cure."

Buttercup snorted in frustration and opened her mouth to complain but Bubbles uncharacteristically cut her off.

"People are dying," she whispered, not wanting the Professor to hear. "Mitch said...Mitch said that his mom was showing the signs of... He's scared and sad. I saw it in his eyes. He was telling the truth. They have names of those who haven't made it. The dogs went first. The women next. Then the men."

During her desperate, quiet speech, Buttercup had gone a ghastly white.

"It doesn't go away. No one gets better," whimpered Bubbles, tears now falling from her eyes. "It just kills."

Without warning, Buttercup swung round and thumped Bubbles in the stomach. "LIAR!" She cried, tears threatening to spill, anger etched into her features.

Bubbles, lying on the floor, grasping her pained stomach merely shook her head. No lies were told. Only the truth.

The awful truth.

On seeing Bubbles face, Buttercup felt a strong wave of guilt, letting out a dry sob and fell to her knees. "I'm sorry," she whispered, crawling to her sister and falling into her forgiving embrace. "I'm sorry Bubbles, I shouldn't have said and done that!"

They hugged for a moment before Buttercup asked the inevitable. "What are the last signs...?"

"Being sick," was the whispered reply.

The hug tightened momentarily before they broke apart. Buttercup held out her hand and helped her fallen sister to stand. "I'm sure we can do something..." said Bubbles.

"Sure we can..." Buttercup managed a watery smile.

"We're the Powerpuff girls," completed one strong, feminine voice. The girls turned to see their leader and sister, Blossom. "I heard everything." The flame-haired sibling declared. "The Professor is asleep, but I can hear whispers from over five feet away. Do not lose heart, we will find a way girls, we always do."

The girls flew downstairs, Blossom talking the entire time. "Now we know the situation is even more serious than expected, we need to be more strict and regimented. We are in charge and everyone is relying on us. We need information. The Professor has been vomiting since last night. However, if there have only been a handful of deaths so far," the girls all shuddered at the use of 'only' in the last sentence, "then we may have a few days to save the Professor and as many others as possible. So, we need info. Also, we need to spend some time checking on the other children again."

"Before I took it for granted that the adults would get better and that most of the children would be left alone for a short time." She took a deep breath. "But if this is going to take time, then we need to make sure that they are ok. That everyone is being looked after and that everyone has food and heating. We need to work as a community or we'll never make it. The outside world has cut us off. We also need someone listening or watching the news, so we know if they are having more luck outside of Townsville or if they are sending in help. "

"Should we call for help?" Asked Buttercup.

"Yes, but as a last resort." Blossom was looking through the kitchen cupboards as she spoke, making a mental list of all the food stuffs they had left. "We don't know how the Sickness infects and we do not want this spreading to America or the rest of the world."

The other two went quiet, the thought of the Sickness spreading making them feel afraid. And Powerpuffs very seldom experience fear.

Blossom got over it more quickly and began barking out commandments; "Bubbles, go and do a sweep of the neighbourhood. Make sure everyone is alright. If anyone is badly sick, as in vomiting and looking like they might be near the end..." she paused and gulped before hardening her resolve, "then carve an X into the door and make sure the adults stay inside. Then come back here and watch over the Professor. The ones who are very ill, ask their children how long they've been that way."

Bubbles nodded and flew away, making sure to leave through the front door rather than crashing through the walls. If the Sickness was air-borne they didn't want to bring any more into the house by recklessly making holes in the walls or roof.

"Buttercup, I need you to fly into Town. We need more masks. Just break into any medical store and take them. Also try and take any medicines such as pain killers and penicillin. As many as possible." Buttercup opened a cupboard door and pulled out a black, plastic bin-liner. Blossom nodded in approval. "We have to watch out for everyone now. Apart from that, just do a quick sweep of the outside. Try and make sure there is no one left in the Town."

"Should I carry them back too?"

Blossom paused momentarily before replying with a certainty she did not feel. "No. Bring back the medicine first. Then we can work together on bringing the unwell back to..." Blossom was going to say 'here' but stopped at the final moment. She didn't want to bring more illness into one place. Buttercup understood and simply laid her hand on Blossoms arm.

"It's cool. We'll find somewhere to put the sickest people." Blossom nodded tightly. Morality had always been easy for Blossom. Stealing was bad, human lives were all equal and important. But today, it seemed morality had suddenly become a grey area. T was a nasty reality that had been slowly creeping up on the girls as they had grown older. Luckily, Buttercup had known long before any of her sisters that morality was not quite so black and white. Buttercup could sympathise and take it in her stride. "Erm. What will you do?" She asked.

"I'm going to the Trailer Park to talk to Mitch. Bubbles mentioned something about dogs. If we can find out where the Sickness started from, we'll be one step closer to understanding it and eradicating it."

With a quick nod that almost seemed to be the equivalent of an army salute, the girls flew away out the door and in opposite directions, praying that the Professor would be ok on his own for a while.

xxXXxx

Out on the opposite side of Townsville, closer to the docks and in a small, inconspicuous park the unseemly quiet was crudely shattered by the incessant, boyish giggling of three brothers. Brick, Boomer and Butch were smashing and ruining everything in sight. After a few minutes of mindless violence, Brick became still and gave his brothers and odd stare before sitting down. They eventually noticed.

"What's wrong Brick?" Queried the blond, his sinuses still moderately blocked, causing his voice to sound slightly stuffy, the same way it had when he was a small child. Butch, shaking slightly due to his avoidance of medication simply stared at his brother. Butch seldom spoke.

"Aw, it's just boring is all," complained Brick before throwing up his arms in frustration. Brick always had been a little more melodramatic than the others. "Where the heck is everyone?"

All three sat down. "There were no monsters on Monster Island. So we come here to play and there's no one here." Moaned Boomer.

"Maybe," started Butch, "we should go back to Him?"

The boys sat still and quiet; a rare show of them thinking. They had been with Him for what may have been months or years. The strange place that Him lived in tended to distort the boys sense of time. On the whole, they were fiercely independent. Independent to a fault. Oftentimes the boys were homeless, unless they were able to force people out of their homes. Fuzzy tended to be the one they bullied the most; mainly because his frustration at them touching his things was hilarious to them. The Ruffs were immature, unkind and very, very powerful. The only people that could control them were the Powerpuff girls and even they would have a hell of a battle whilst trying to do it.

However, in a sense, Mojo and Him were their parents. And, out of the two, the boys slightly preferred Him. Him had all the time in the world for evil, and so very rarely got stressed or annoyed. Also Him ruled a strange place that the boys could not comprehend. Consequently, Him had no real need to 'rule' anywhere on the Earthly plane. And, Him seemed more concerned with keeping the balance of good and evil somewhat equal (something the Powerpuff Girls frequently threatened) rather than having evil completely take over.

N the other hand Mojo was on a deadline. He was determined to rule the world and destroy the Powerpuff girls. Therefore he was irate and difficult to live with. Mojo had also been the one to bring the boys into existence originally. All though they were not fully aware of it, the boys had never truly forgiven him for bringing them into such a dark world for such a sinister reason.

The boys were like the children of a broken marriage of two lunatics. Mojo was the inattentive, workaholic father who pushed too hard. Him was the hippy, overly-relaxed and hedonistic mother.

After leaving the place where Him resided (without asking Him's permissions to leave; Him probably hadn't noticed they were gone, when they left he was engrossed into one of his work out videos,) the boys arrived at Monster Island. Like the Girls, the Boys liked beating the stuffing out of any monster they could find. Unlike the Girls, the Boys were on the offense. However, that morning, the Boys couldn't find any monsters. Granted, they didn't look too hard, but they could not hear any monsters talking, or walking or eating. They couldn't even hear snores or breathing. After a few moments, boredom sent them over to Townsville where they immediately began to smash up the park.

Brick stood up; he hated sitting around and doing nothing. Like his female counterpart, he was always willing to stand up, take control and pursue an action. "C'mon!" He ordered, the other two scrambling to their feet. "We should go into Townsville and look around. Maybe blow up something really big, so people have to come out and pay attention to us."

The boys grinned and nodded, the taste of destruction on their tongues.

One of the fatal flaws of the Ruffs, which they had not yet figured out, was that they did not think enough. They were impatient and did not plan, they had no sense of meditating on situations. They had been made by an angry monkey in a fit of rage. Their whole lives they had brutally forced things to go their way. They were still stuck at a baby stage of being completely demanding and expecting, as Freud would say, instant gratification. If they wanted sweets, they would fly out and steal some. If they wanted to go play, they would. If they wanted to hurt someone, they would. They never had to wait. They never had to think. And, as far as they knew, there had never been any real consequences of this behaviour.

Because the boys flew into Townsville without a second thought, they had not noticed the stale smell of decay hidden under the scent of tree blossoms.

xxXXxx

Buttercup had filled two black bin liners with stolen medicines. She had grabbed just about anything, aspirin, pain killers, cough medicine, bandages, plasters and cooling packs. What she had really wanted was medicine that could fight off viruses or infections. Granted they were not sure what the Sickness was, but still, giving the victims one or both couldn't hurt right? Unfortunately, being only ten years old and unknowledgeable about medical issues, Buttercup had no idea what most of the medicines were and which ones were anti-viral or anti-infection. All she could find were creams for injuries. But the Sickness was internal.

Leaving the bags on the top of the last pharmacy she had raided, Buttercup preceded to go further into Townsville for a quick sweep of the land. The undercurrent stench was soon detected; she crinkled her nose in response and tried to ignore the churning in her stomach. Powerpuffs were not really cut out for this sort of thing. Powerpuffs had an obvious enemy which they defeated sometimes with wit and planning, most of the time with their fists. This sort of cowardly, slinking illness infected their friends and families was something they could not defeat easily. Buttercup, even with her strong mind, was the most realistic of the three girls. She was aware that they were most likely fighting a losing battle. Frowning at her own dark, loser thoughts, Buttercup picked up the pace. She tried to look for any signs of life, the movements being those of inanimate objects in the wind.

It was on her final lap that she saw them. Three small boys were walking down the middle of the highway, looking a little lost and confused. She flew down quickly. "Hey, hey!" She called, hoping that they weren't orphans of parents the Girls had been too late to save. "Are you guys ok, are you- ?" Before she could say 'lost' the boys looked up at her and she instantly recognised them.

Brick, Butch and Boomer.

Memories of the miscreants suddenly crashed into her consciousness. The boys had disappeared some years ago. No one had been too concerned, they often tended to disappear and reappear, their 'other father' Him being in a different realm and all.

She landed, her face distressed. "Ohh! What do you guys want?" Of all the times, they had to return when things were at their worst!

The boys however, looked somewhat shell shocked. Boomer looked the worst.

"What happened?" croaked out Brick. He pointed to the cars. Most of them were empty, car doors left open where people had scrambled out or had been dragged out and taken to hospital. However, one or two, Buttercup realised, now placing the horrible scent she had been trying to avoid, still had the remains of people inside. Not everyone had been found. Some had died in their cars. Tears welled up in her eyes. They had not managed to save everyone. Already the girls had failed, before they had even realised it.

The Ruffs looked on in astonishment as Buttercup, the Puff they acknowledged as the toughest, had to fight off tears. "It started a few weeks back," she choked out, her voice a little rough. "People got sick. And it didn't go away, it just spread to all the adults and got worse and worse. We think it got to the animals first, but we don't know what started-"

"What about Mojo!" Boomer suddenly wailed, throwing Buttercup off guard. The boys stared at her intently. When she did not immediately answer Brick pointed at her dramatically and barked, "you said animals first! Did you check on Mojo? I know he's evil but, gooosh, I thought you'd check on him, you being good and all!"

Buttercup shook her head, trying to not get angry at their accusations. "We only found out it got dogs first this morning. We think it might be all animals but we don't know."

Butch began to shake even more than before and Boomer looked ready to fly away at any moment. All of them seemed to be looking at her with judgemental eyes.

"Look, our dad is sick! The whole town is sick! We're cut off from the outside world! What could we do? We could have used more people with superpowers, and you're the only other ones we know, but you were probably off playing and fighting somewhere! You weren't here, trying to stop people from dying! So don't look at me like that!" She took in deep breaths.

There was a moment silence before Brick said, "we're going to Mojo. He is smart, he might know what is happening. Then we'll come to your house." Brick ignored the fact that Mojo was very likely dead. Buttercup hadn't time to nod before Brick turned to his brothers with the same commanding nature as Blossom. "Let's go boys!"

In a flash of light, they were gone.

It wasn't until she was half way back home that Buttercup realised something. When talking to the boys, she had called the professor "dad."

xxXXxx

Not thinking about if the Sickness was airborne, the boys smashed through the ceiling of Mojo's lab in their typical style. "Mojo!" Wailed the blond, whizzing through the volcano desperately.

"Stop wailing!" Barked his brother from behind. "You sound like you're gonna cry or something, it's embarrassing!" Brick landed and looked at the lab carefully, noting if anything was amiss. Butch, torn between following Boomer and staying with the boss, finally decided to wait with Brick, bouncing slightly all the while in agitation. "Take your pills Butch." Muttered Brick.

Butch looked at him in surprise; Brick was the one that encouraged Butch to abstain. Brick looked at him sharply, "do it!" he screamed, unused to his brothers not obeying him. Butch flew away to the bathroom to try and find if Mojo still kept Ritalin. Brick momentarily wondered if he should just have explained to Butch why he suddenly wanted him on the drugs. Brick hated his brother on medication; as far as he was concerned, if Butch was supposed to be a hyperactive insomniac then so be it. It was not down to some doctor to try and suppress his natural way. However, with current events, the last thing he wanted was Butch to be tired but unable to sleep, and disappearing now and then because he could not sit still. The Sickness might affect children, if not now then later. Brick had realised that everyone needed to be calm and controlled, for once. Most of all, they needed to stay together.

Boomer suddenly called out for his brothers. Flying to where his voice originated, the boys found him looking at a Mojo. The monkey was in what looked like a large test tube, various wires and tubes pumping liquids into his body. Surrounding him inside was ice. Mojo had frozen himself.

"Well," barked Brick after a moments silence, "'least he aint dead. Not that I cared, of course..."

"But why?" Wailed Boomer. "Why is he frozen? I don't get it? What's the point?"

Brick back slapped him the face, "it's so he don't get sick dummy. Anyone who watches enough sci-fi films knows this stuff. Remember Mr Freeze in Batman? He froze his wife. It, like..." Brick waved his hand around whilst trying to think of the world. A lack of education had left the boys with limited vocabulary. "It just, like, stops their bodies from doing anything. Like the freeze in time. So any germs or illness can't make them sick. Or sicker."

"But he's frozen!"

"I know! Look for something, like a note or anything. Mojo must have explained why he did this."

"Yeah, we all know how much he likes to explain," sighed Butch, his voice croaky from lack of use.

The boys could not find any notes or paper. What files they did find were full of complicated and unexplained equations and diagrams of various traps and destroyer machines to defeat the Powerpuff girls. The boys disregarded all of these. Finally, it was Butch who found a single, homemade DVD underneath the machine Mojo was frozen in. There was a single label on it on which a date was written.

Brick read it, "this was made three weeks ago," he looked at them, "the time the Sickness came." Brick shrugged, "it's as good as anything."

The boys tried to find a DVD player, but all of Mojo's machinery and computers were too complicated. In the end they decided to play it at the Powerpuff Girls home.

**A/N. I apologise if I made Boomer a bit of a cry baby. I imagine he, like Bubbles, is the most sensitive one of the group. I also think he would be the one who was more willing to put his heart on his sleeve and be open about being frightened for Mojo. Besides, I think he's allowed to be a bit whiney here. After all, he did think his father was dead. I can't imagine how frightening that would be for a ten year old (even if the ten year old had super powers.)**


	3. Chapter 3

While Buttercup had been talking to the Boys, Blossom had been flying over to the trailer park. As she landed she took in the silence. Townsville had always been a noisy place. Not unpleasantly so, but in a manner befitting a Town so full of life. The wind gently shook the leaves, Blossom's name sake drifting to the floor. The land was normally covered in mud, little more than one dirt track after another leading from trailer to trailer. Today the tracks were covered in the blossoms. Dead flowers of days gone by lay underneath. It was a fitting metaphor for the town.

Unlike the suburbs, there was no sound of sneezing and the coughs were faint. More noticeable than the silence and the un-trodden dirt path was the complete lack of dogs. Metal rods in the ground where canines were usually tied up stood empty and obsolete.

Passing one of the trailers to reach Mitch's, Blossom saw the pale white face of a young girl staring out. Blossom smiled, allowing warmth to enter her eyes. However, the girl did not respond. She sat still, staring out, as if she had not seen Blossom. Her eyes were blank with misery. Blossom picked up the pace.

She knocked on Mitch's door and stood with her hands clasped behind her back. It felt strange, knocking on someone's door for reasons other than asking if they wanted to come out and play, or to ask if they wanted to buy some cookies to support the school or some charity.

Mitch ripped the door open looking tense. Blossom just managed to stop herself from leaping back in shock. Her eyes drifted to his right hand. He was holding a rifle.

He relaxed a little when he recognised her. His lips, once tensed into a pale line, returned to being slightly fuller and a slight pink. Blossom smiled anxiously as he invited her in.

"Lots of people are going a little crazy," he explained as she sat at the kitchen table. The house smelt musty and of penicillin. "They're trying to steal food or medicine. Or both." He smiled. Blossom thought it looked as though Mitch's mind would snap at any moment. She laid her clean hand on his grubby one.

"We're doing everything we can to help." She swore looking him in the eyes. "Buttercup has gone to get medicine. But we need information. You said this got the dogs first and that women were affected before men. Please, Mitch, sit down and explain to me how you know this and exactly what you've witnessed about the Sickness. I need details."

Mitch remained standing and looked out into the distance, his eyes unfocused. His jaw tightened. Blossom sighed quietly. She knew it would not be easy for Mitch. But she needed him to be brave. And Mitch was not always the bravest person. Luckily he was, despite his various flaws, a good person, and she would need to play on that to get him to speak.

"Mitch, please, we need to save as many as possible. Only you can do this." Mitch nodded and she allowed herself a small smile. Amateur psychology to be sure, but it seemed to be true that, when in desperate circumstances, people liked to make positive actions.

"People have gone crazy," he muttered, holding the rifle close. "People have been robbing food and medicines. It's bad."

"We'll keep an eye on the place," she promised, without knowing how exactly, they were going to keep an eye on everyone, especially with the Professor being bed-ridden.

"We noticed the dogs were going odd around about a month ago," he started without preamble. "They started off with sneezing. Then they began to get shaky on their legs. They had no energy, all they did was sleep around. Old man Gambo, three trailers down," he motioned with his head out of the window, "he got so mad Rocky, his dog, that he shot it in the head. He was the first one to go." He smiled at her tightly, Blossom herself was shocked. He sat opposite her but did not touch or comfort her in any way. "I don't know what it is about this place," he whispered. "But they're mean here. Mean to their dogs, to their kids, to their partners." He shrugged and carried on. "All the dogs began to froth at the mouth. We shot a few 'cause we thought it was maybe the rabies. We went to kill squirrels and any other rodents, thinking they were spreading the rabies, but then we noticed, there weren't any rodents. No birds either. Did you hear any birds or any animal rustling in the bushes on the way here?"

Feeling cold and even a little frightened, Blossom shook her head. She was trying to remember when she last did hear any birds. She couldn't remember.

"The dogs stopped being able to eat and then they began to throw up. Some of the dogs began to run away. When we found them alive, we shot them, but on the whole, we found 'em dead. It was then that we knew it was not only contagious but lethal. A lot of the dogs were real violent during the sickness. More than one adult got bit. And then...the first women began to get sick. Somebody mentioned that it was reported on local news that people were getting some kind of flu or cold. We knew that it could result in death and that maybe our trailer park started it. We got scared. So we began to hunt the last remaining dogs specifically and collecting all the bodies. We took them to the dumps and burned them. We all had things wrapped around our mouths and noses to stop any of the disease getting in but," Mitch stopped there and simply shrugged.

"Was there any specific dog that got sick first?"

"I dunno. I don't notice things like the odd dog sneezing."

"Well then did anything even slightly out of the ordinary happen before this? Just before?"

Mitch was silent for a long time before shaking his head.

Suddenly, a weak coughing and calls of "Mitch, Mitch!" came from one of the bedrooms.

"That my mom," he muttered urgently, exiting the room.

Blossom sat quietly for a moment before frowning. Something was...wrong. Turning around she looked out of the window. Around two dozen people were beginning to walk towards the trailer. Their eyes were pale and empty. Each of them had a hungry, animalistic look about them. The front door was banged upon.

"Don't let them in!" Mitch called from the bedroom. With her superior hearing Blossom could hear soft, feminine sobs from where Mitch was; his mother was crying.

"What do they want?" Blossom had gotten up and was in the hallway, half way between the front door and the bedroom. Mitch poked his head around the corner of the bedroom door. "We got drugs," he whispered. The front door banged again, this time so roughly that it bounced off its hinges. "Pain killers and stuff," he continued to whisper. "I swear to god Blossom, I don't have a lot of it. What we have I _need_ for my mom."

Blossom nodded before opening the door and stepping outside. The people out there had clearly hoped to crash into the trailer as soon as the door opened, but when they saw a Powerpuff Girl instead of a small boy, the backed off.

"Can I help you guys?" She asked, her voice firm and level.

"Well hey there lil lady," grinned the guy who was the closest. Blossom reckoned he was the one who nearly knocked the door clean off its frame. He was tall, broad and clearly very sick. Every movement he made looked like it was painful. "We all are pretty sick," he gestured to the other adults and few adolescents. "And the boy and his mama in there, well, they got painkillers. It ain't fair that they get to have painkillers and we don't. Share and share alike, that's what's fair, ain't it?"

Blossom stepped outside and closed the door. She straightened herself and looked at them all squarely. "There isn't enough painkillers in that one little place. It isn't fair to take what is theirs." The people looked ready to argue but she pushed on quickly, "but my sister, she's flown in the city and raided all the pharmacies. We have got enough drugs. We can bring some over to you within half an hour. Just go home and be patient. Lynch mobs will get us nowhere."

"I don't think you understand," answered the guy from before. He was breathing heavily, as if barely repressing an intense rage. He looked at her with maddened eyes, and Blossom unconsciously began to step backwards. "We need these drugs. People are in pain. This Sickness hurts. You wouldn't know, being a bastard child, but we adults are in pain! We NEED those drugs! Now!"

"You are not listening to me," Blossom replied with a strength she did not absolutely feel. All the time she wondered 'will I be able to attack these people? Would it be morally right, considering everything that has and is happening to them?' "You are not listening to me, I said my sister is bringing drugs. Plenty of drugs. Just wait."

"LIES! ALL LIES! Where were you when the Sickness came? When we began to die? You are no better than the authorities and police and all them fat cats in the city! You just wanna control us! Well, no more, we say no!"

He waved over for his followers to come to the trailer and within a second they crashed against the thin, metal home banging on the walls and windows.

"Let us in you bitch!" They screamed insults and threats in turn.

"You bitch and your little bitch of a pup! Lets us in!"

"Give us what we need!"

Sighing in frustration, Blossom began to physically attack the people, knocking all of them out. It was a short battle, her enemies being relatively few in number, purely human and very sick. However, the battle was bitter. The people had become like animals. They snarled and tried to bite her on several occasions. "They're like the dogs," she had thought, "the dogs that knew they were going to die as well."

She left their unconscious bodies in the dirt of the floor. It was brutal and perhaps even deadly to their already waning health, but she didn't have time to take them all to their individual homes and quite frankly her compassion was being tested. Mitch and his mother would come first. She opened the front door and stepped into the trailer once more.

"Mitch?" She called. "Hey, Mitch, they're all gone. Tell your mom its ok."

Feeling anxious, as if she were intruding into a private place, Blossom opened up the door to the bedroom. It smelt of medicine and decay. A woman with pale brown hair and fair skin lay on the bed. Her brown eyes were open but un-seeing. Mitch sat at the end of the bed, the rifle leaning impotently on his leg, his head clasped in his hands. He was weeping quietly. Just like his mother had just minutes ago.

"Oh Mitch, I'm...I'm so sorry." Blossom heard her voice catch. Walking towards him, she did something she never knew she would. She opened her arms and embraced Mitch, kissing him softly upon the head, like a mother would.

Back in the suburbs, Bubbles sighed and using her powers blew another deep hole in the ground. She flew back into the house, wrapped the bed sheets around what remained of Ms Ramsis, Little Simones mom, and carried her outside. Early into checking in on their neighbours, Bubble shad returned home, gotten some gloves, protective wear they would wear in the lab and her mask. She then went about disposing of the bodies. Many had died, so far mostly moms, sisters and aunts. The men were too ill to bury them. No emergency services had come when they had called. More than once Bubbles had entered a home to be greeted by grown men weeping, sick and impotent, and by glassy-eyed, shell shocked children.

It was worse when the homes had no living adults.

It hadn't taken long for the bodies to start appearing. In the third house she checked the mother had died. The father was unaware, he was so sick the children hadn't been able to tell him. There had been three children in the house. The oldest was eight. They had tried to begin digging a grave, but had been unable to dig into the hard, sun-dried earth. In the end they had focused all their energies on keeping their father alive. Bubbles thought they were probably in denial of their mother. She had almost been tempted to ignore the fact that the mother was dead herself, and to go on to the next house, but that was not possible. They couldn't have dead bodies in the neighbourhood along with live people. The area was diseased enough. Instead, Bubbles forced herself to be as practical as Blossom and as tough as Buttercup. Heaving on gloves and her mask, she had entered the mother's bedroom. Bubbles had thrown up at seeing the body. After twenty minutes she re-entered the room, covered the mother quickly with blankets. She had then flown out of the window, powered up an energy ball and blown a hole in the garden. Then, somewhat unceremoniously to her shame, she had picked up the blankets with the mother inside and dropped her straight into the hole. Using her breath powers, she had blown all the mud back over the hole.

After that, Bubbles had been doomed to replicate the whole grisly business time and time again. In so many houses people had died, especially the women, but most of the men looked quite ill themselves.

In any case, on a sunny and breezy day in the suburbs, instead of playing with her dolls or eating lunch in the park with her family, Bubbles had found herself being a curator, a grave digger, a priest and a social worker. She couldn't even give the younger children to some of the older children to look after, because the older children were in too much shock or deep in mourning over their parents. All of the adults were too sick to help any of the children. So very young children, like Little Simone were left alone in the Utonium household until, something more useful could be done.

Bubbles never thought she would have the strength to carry out some of the gruesome activities she was doing today, but necessity dictated it. Still, the entire time, she could not help but worry that soon she would be doing the same things, wrapping and burying, her own father. Professor Utonium. Professor. Dad.

She entered a new house. She knew this persons home. It belonged to Mr Jackson. He was a middle aged man who lived alone. He did not seem very fond of children and hated them playing around his home, but he seemed like a pretty good guy on the whole. He had never hurt anyone or done anything bad.

She found him in bed but still alive. He was in a similar situation to most of the people who lived alone. He was very dehydrated and in need of food. She opened up a window slightly. Even with the risk that the disease was airborne it was no doubt in the atmosphere now. Nothing could be done to stop it and the room smelled bad. She let him drunk water through a straw. She had learned early on that if she let them gulp down the liquid they would throw up even more and have stomach pains. Little and consistent was better.

"I'm sorry Mr Jackson," she whispered, the mask obscuring her words slightly, "we'll try harder." She wiped her brow and looked outside. The sun shining and blue skies seemed obscene in light of all the horror and misery that surrounded her. They would have to make soup that night, she had decided. She would make a massive pot of vegetable soup and pass it out amongst the children and adults. That would help the dehydration, give everyone some nutrients and it was easy to make. They would have to round up the children and try and rouse the orphans out of their depression. They needed help, as much help as they could get. She wiped a tear that escaped her eye. They would have to be cruel, she and her sisters, they would have to not allow anyone time to mourn, not for now. No one would be allowed to be children.

Mr Jackson finished his water and sighed. She tucked him in like a mother would her child and shut the curtains.

"Stay alive, please Mr Jackson."

Then Bubbles went to the next house.

xxXXxx

Buttercup arrived home to find the bedroom she still shared with her sisters full of small children and babies. Many of them looked ill and undernourished. Buttercup felt her face pale slightly. By passing the bedroom she went straight to the Professors room. She found him out of bed and sitting behind his laptop.

"Professor, no!" She cried hoarsely, flying up to him and putting him into bed. The pupils of his arid eyes were dilated. He looked feverish and uncertain. "I-I have to Buttercup," he sniffed, his cold and stuffy nose affecting how he pronounced his words. His voice was low and quiet. "N-need to get a cur-cure..."

Buttercup didn't answer him but flew downstairs and got him a glass of water. He was too hot and feverish.

As she helped him sip the water, she heard a few of the babies crying next door. What was she to do? Where had they come from? It must have been Bubbles.

"_Why is Bubbles collecting babies and toddlers_?" She wondered to herself before, "_wait! No, I don't want to know. Oh...man..._"

"Professor I gotta go, I gotta find Bubbles..." She looked at him but he was already fast asleep. That was good. He needed sleep and hydration. They would get through this. They had to.

She had only flown halfway down the stairs when the front door opened and Bubbles stood slumped against the door frame. Buttercup took in her outfit for just a moment before asking where Blossom was, "she should have been back by now. Bubbles? Bubbles?" She took a step closer to her fair haired sibling, whose head was bowed. Buttercup felt herself going cold again. "I saw all the babies in the bedroom," she whispered, "where are they from?"

"Their parents are dead," was the response. Bubbles usually up-beat squeaky voice was low and quiet. She sounded older, much older than what she really was. "I've been burying them all afternoon. So many died. I thought I was handling it ok but..."

Buttercup had shivered at the knowledge that all around them their neighbours had been dying in their own homes. By the end of Bubbles monologue however, Buttercup felt her chest constrict and her eyes brim with tears. "I'm so sorry. You could have waited for us Bubbles. We would have helped. You didn't need to bury them alone."

"There's too much work," she whispered and finally raised her head. She was ghostly pale, her eyes were red and sore from tears. "I went into number 16, I went in. They were a small family. They had a baby. Both the parents were dead. Again. But then I went to the cot...I went to the cot..." Fresh tears began to fall, "the baby...the poor little baby. I think it was a boy, they had him in blue blankets. His room had toy trains and airplanes in it. It wasn't the Sickness Buttercup."

As Bubbles stared into her sisters eyes, Buttercup felt her stomach preparing itself to be violently sick.

"He starved," Bubbles finally explained. "He must have starved in his cot. He must have cried. And cried. And nobody came. We didn't no one did. He must have thought no-one loved him."

"Stop," muttered Buttercup between clenched teeth. "It's no good thinking that way Bubbles." She walked forward and embraced her sobbing sister. She looked beyond and outside the door. On the opposite side of the road starring in were the Rowdyruff Boys. They had blank expressions, though Boomer looked a little paler than usual. She had known they were there shortly after Bubbles had started to talk. Brick had a disc in his hand. She nodded at them. They would be allowed inside.


	4. Chapter 4

The boys said nothing as they all sat down cross legged in front of the television. After she found the remote, Blossom turned it on. All that the TV stations showed was static. It seemed their TV signals were even blocked now. Townsville was completely alone.

It seemed the rest of the children noticed this also. All of them stiffened and straightened their backs slightly. Blossom cast a nervous eye towards Mitch. He was pale, and had been sick on their way to the house. However now he seemed as well as could be. His face was calm but void of expression. He stared at the screen.

He had said nothing to the girls or about the Rowdy Ruffs; he seemed content to go along with whatever plan they had. "There was nothing he could do to save his mother," Blossom mused. "So he must be trying to save whoever he can by helping destroy the illness." She shuddered to think what would have happened to Mitch if she had not been there. And that led her to wonder about all the children in Townsville who they had not reached; all the children who were alone and vulnerable in houses filled with the dead.

Buttercup wiped down the DVD and placed it into the player.

"Don't we have any popcorn?" whined Boomer. There was a brief and heavy pause before Brick back-handed him in the face.

Bubbles pressed Play.

After a quick fuzz of static a black and white image of Mojo Jojo's lab appeared on the screen. Mojo was hopping around, his cloak somehow flowing out behind him even though there would have been no breeze in his lab. Whilst throwing around potions with reckless abandon Mojo ranted the entire time. Fortunately there was no sound.

"This must be a security camera," said Blossom.

"Nooo, really, you don't say?" drawled Brick with exaggerated sarcasm. The boys laughed and high fived each other. Blossom was surprised to see that they included Mitch; who hadn't laughed but had responded to the high five with his own, albeit with a dazed expression. Blossom felt less annoyed with Brick all of a sudden.

"Booring!" cried Buttercup before fast forwarding the tape. Butch quietly chuckled behind his hand.

They fast forwarded through images of Mojo dashing various potions and chemicals together, often times yelling and throwing his arms about. It was eerie because of the silence. Bubbles couldn't help noticing that Mojo came across less as a mad scientist and more like an angry witch.

Finally the screen darkened slightly, before turning green and black due to its night vision. Mojo had disappeared, no doubt having gone to bed and nothing seemed to be happening until-

"Hey stop!" Blossom cried making Buttercup jump slightly before hitting the pause button. "Re-wind, something just happened."

They re-wound the DVD slowly, the boys and girls all unconsciously moving forward, eyes fixed to the screen.

"Ok, press play," the red head now whispered.

The picture slowed and came into focus. The whole screen appeared black aside from the few green lines outlining the experimentation table Mojo had used and abused all day. There was a sudden blur of green in the background.

"That was it!"

"What is it?" asked Mitch from the edge of the room. He had sat further away from the others.

Blossom turned and shrugged as Brick and Buttercup leaned in close to the TV.

"That sappy girl," he croaked out, "the one with the dumb hair and stupid voice..."

"It's Princess," clarified Buttercup, "looks like she's trying to steal something." She leaned back onto her knees and folded her arms. Of all the villains, Princess was the one Buttercup really disliked (well, short of the Rowdy Ruff Boys.)

Princess was ignoring all the potions and chemicals on Mojo's table and instead mooching around in the back ground. For the first time, they all wished that there was some noise, that could have given them a clue.

"Aw man!" Buttercup finally cried out in frustration, "why didn't Mojo invest in some real CCTV?"

The boys frowned as if she had personally insulted them. Blossom figured them nearly losing Mojo had perhaps made them more sensitive. Luckily, before anyone could retort Bubbles had a brain wave and asked them, "you guys should know! What was in the back ground of that room, what was she looking in?"

"You could just have re-wound the DVD to when it was bright, then you could see for yourselves." complained Brick, making Bubbles blush.

"Mojo's secret stuff is there," answered Boomer, not paying any attention to what his brother and leader had just said. He was looking at the girls with big blue eyes full of the desperate need to help.

"He has a bunch of lockers there. Inside are some of his worst things. Even we were never allowed into them. Brick tried once...it wasn't good."

They all glanced at Brick who simply folded his arms more tightly, blushed and refused to say anything.

"Look," Buttercup called their attention back to the screen. "She has something in her hands."

For the first time Princess appeared fully and visibly right next to the camera. In her hand was a small vial. She laughed manically, looked behind her suddenly and then flew away. The camera came off its night vision as Mojo appeared on the screen shouting, evidently after having turned on the light. Princess, it seemed, was long gone. The last parts of the DVD showed Mojo looking at it carefully, before putting hand towards it.

"He must have watched the tape and realised she stole something too dangerous for even him to handle." Mused Blossom. "That's why he froze himself."

"Before coming to Townsville," said Brick slowly, "we went to Monster Island but nothing seemed to be there."

"No," interrupted Blossom, "the monsters stopped coming a while back.

"We figured they'd had enough of getting their butts kicked by us," said Buttercup with usual swagger; she couldn't help it.

However, the boys remained uncharacteristically still and sober. "Mojo used to use the monsters in his experiments."

The house suddenly felt chill.

"He used it on the monsters, and they all...disappeared..." whispered Bubbles.

"I'm guessing that if we look hard enough," Buttercup frowned, stood up and began to pace the room, "we'll find countless bodies of monsters who died through illness."

"So Mojo locked it up," finished Blossom. "There's no use ruling a world of dead people. But that's what Princess stole. Do you think she even realised what she had stolen and how dangerous it was?"

"I don't know and I don't care," Buttercup barked. All the boys, minus Mitch, stood up, their eyes burning passionately. "I say we go get Princess and teach her a lesson!"

Blossom nodded. "Mojo doesn't have a cure or he would never have frozen himself. It's down to us. We'll get the potion she stole and try and make a cure from it. I'm sure the Professor can still help with that," she glanced upstairs, anxiety flittering across her face momentarily. But then she was in her element once more.

"Brick and Buttercup I want you guys to lead the way into Princesses home. Do anything necessary in order to put her in lock down and to get the potion. The rest of us are going to round up help. We can't find a cure on our own and neither can the professor. We need to get any notes Mojo kept, and any of the greater minds of Townsville."

"Brick barked out a laugh the way Blossom did orders. "Good luck with that last bit, Toots. Boomer, you stay and help get Mojo's stuff. You seem to remember the lab the best. Butch and Buttercup, wanna come with me? " He aimed the question at Buttercup only, he knew Butch's loyalty already. There was a tense pause before Buttercup nodded resolutely. There were things much bigger than their little quarrels.

As soon as they were gone, Mitch walked up to Blossom rubbing his arm anxiously. "What can I do?" he whispered in his characteristically husky voice. "I can't fly or fight like you guys can. I'm useless...again..."

"No you are not," Blossom retorted in a strong voice. "You are useful and we need you. Mitch, I want you to try and get contact to the outside world. They need to know a cure in on the way. However, we will need help from outside scientists. Can you do this?"

He paused, thinking before answering, "sure. I can go to an old radio tower they used to use in the olden days. I'll try and make contact and see what's going on."

"You know about radios?"

"Yeah. It was one of my hobbies. I know about lots of electrical stuff."

Blossom thought back of when they were very young and Mitch had managed to make a torture device for a small hamster. She shuddered and reminded herself that that was long ago. She forced a smile and put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Then that is what you can and must do. Come straight back here as soon as you are done. You're one of us Mitch."

xxXXxx

As Buttercup flew alongside Brick and Butch she found herself feeling curiously content. This was where she was supposed to be; on the brink of battle. Buttercup was a soldier. Though she worked well with her sisters, it had become increasingly obvious as the years went on that each girl had her own speciality; Blossom as the Leader, Bubbles as the Peacemaker and Buttercup as the Foot Soldier. Some people might think her role lowly, but she liked it.

The afternoon had rolled on into the evening while they had watched the video and discussed its contents. The air felt static and fraught, no longer the seductive calm and lazy balminess that it had during the day. A storm was coming. Buttercup could smell it.

They all flew in silence, their faces grim and hard. Buttercup was glad of that too, by what she had seen Brick was bossy temperamental and a chatter box. But he seemed different now. Older and more serious. Strangely enough, he seemed a lot more like Blossom. "But we all are different now ," she thought, looking from the two boys and back straight ahead. Even she had changed. Had she become kinder, perhaps, more humane? Or had she become bitter? She hoped that whatever this disease had wrought upon her emotional development, it was something that could be used to improve herself.

The children were heading straight for Princesses Manor. It was an ugly, garish mansion, all testament to the fact that money could not buy taste. With the dark clouds menacing the City on the horizon, it looked like a place of pure evil.

"Let's kick some ass!" Screamed Brick, making herself and Butch cheer.

Yes, this was definitely where she was supposed to be.

xxXXxx

Mitch clambered up the old radio station. He was tired and stressed. Despite how the Powerpuff and Rowdyruffs seemed to want to make him feel welcome, he knew he wasn't part of them. Besides, a few hours ago his mom finally died. And that was the crushing reality. No smiles or offers of high fives or popcorn were going to make that go away. Mitch had lost the last of his family today. The worst part was he knew it was going to happen, but he hadn't been able to do a darn thing about it.

There was a part of Mitch that had died alongside his mother that day.

Clenching his grip around the metal bars of the radio station ladder while strengthening his resolve, he continued to climb. He was nearly at the top. He wasn't going to let the Sickness win. He may not have super powers, but he was Mitch and he didn't let anyone or anything control him.

xxXXxx

The three soldiers smashed through the ceiling of Princess's mansion, immediately falling into dramatic poses and frowning in a determined manner. Princess herself was sitting on a throne. However she looked less than majestic. Her clothes and face were dirty. She looked exhausted and unhappy.

Buttercup stepped forward, impressed that Brick hadn't immediately spoken first, maybe he was more cautious when going against females. "What's going on Princess?" She spat, unwilling to be kind despite how sad Princess looked.

"My-my dad," stammered Princess, and Buttercup found herself thinking '_of course..._' "My dad...he's...he's dead. He's actually dead. How could he do that to me Butterbutt...how could he?"

Buttercup made her face even more stony and raised herself up. She decided to ignore the childish twist on her name Princess had unconsciously used. "Yeah...well...we need the poison you stole from Mojo, Princess. Where is it?"

Princess looked sharply at Buttercup, her gaze suddenly focused and full of malice. "Are you deaf?" She roared in outrage. "MY dad is dead! Dead! My mom too...but she was always a pain so...But not my dad! What am I gonna do? Who will feed and look after me? All the servants are dead! The stinking Sickness killed everyone who was useful!I can't even make all the kids my slaves 'cause they can't cook and do stuff! I-" Princess's rant was cut off as Buttercup punched her in the face, promptly breaking the young girls nose. She writhed in Buttercups grasp, as Buttercup screamed down at her, "you idiot! How can you be like this? You killed them all! Do you not get it? You killed them!"

"You're a murderer Princess," came the calm voice of Brick from the back. Princess who had been so shocked by Buttercups hysteria that she had stopped whimpering over her pained nose.

She looked over Buttercups shoulders to where the two brothers stood. They looked so much older than before.

"You are a murderer Princess," the flame haired boy continued in a deadpan tone, "you went too far. This isn't a game. You wiped out half the city. There are thousands of orphans and dead babies and toddlers because of you. You will go to prison for this. Where is the potion? Even now, while we're wasting time with you, people are dying."

"I gave it away alright?" Princess' attitude returned, her voice stuffy from the bloody nose. "I gave it to Smith. I put it lose on a few dogs, but when it didn't work I thought it was another failure, so I sold it to Mr. Smith."

"Whose Mr. Smith?" Croaked Butch.

Buttercup dropped Princess on the floor, ignoring her pained yelp. "He's just some loser," she answered grimly.

xxXXxx

They smashed though into a small suburban house. Mr. Smith in his ridiculous get-up sat with his back to them in a office chair. "Well, hello Powerpuff girls," he said slowly turning to see them, "I've be expecting-no... wait, what? AAHH!" He noticed Butch and Brick. Before he could finish processing who they were, the boys pinned him down and thumped him for good measure.

"Where's the poison you freak?"


	5. Chapter 5

The dark storm clouds looked solemnly down on the doomed Townsville. Once a land of happiness, filled with the hustle and bustle of everyday city life was now a grey and black wasteland of corpses and orphans.

The rain began to fall as one of these orphans, little Mitch, sat atop of the radio tower. He stared out in to the land that was his home but that he no longer recognised. The rain chilled his bones, but he did not care. He did not care about that because today his whole world had just fallen apart and he was battling just to keep his sanity.

xxXXxx

It was the bloodiest and most heartfelt battle Buttercup had ever been involved with. Nothing held back the Ruff Boys, no sense of greater responsibility or a love for fellow man (even if that fellow man was a jerk.) They beat Smith within less than a minute. A kick from Butch broke his ribs. Brick threw him into the wall, breaking his left arm.

Buttercup watched for all of twenty seconds before joining the fray. The pitiful homemade ray gun fell limply from his hand. He had no chance. She punched him around the face in quick succession before hauling him up by his front collar and slamming him back down onto the floor.

The boys stood back and allowed her to do what she needed to.

Buttercup stood breathing heavily. Smith was still conscious. Good. "You killed people, Smith," she breathed, "you're a murderer. You went too far. Where is the poison?"

"He already passed out during your speech," Brick retorted. "We'll find it ourselves."

As they began to search she glowered at the unconscious form of Mr Smith.

"It's the fact that it was, ultimately, this guy," she muttered through clenched teeth. The others did not respond but carried on searching. "Someone so weak, so easily stopped. He destroyed an entire community. He bought us all to our knees."

"He's a terrorist," rasped Butch, coming up behind her. He refrained putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. He couldn't go that far. "He's nothing but a coward on a power trip. They are all like that. Help us look."

xxXXxx

Hundreds of children were piled into the streets of the suburbs. Everyone ignored the rain. The storm wasn't too bad out in the suburbs. It was mostly just windy and wet. But the collection of supplies and the interaction with other people was more important to the children at this time than a bit of bad weather.

Food and fresh clothing were being taken out of homes, sorted through and redistributed. Very young children and babies were being fed by older children in an awkward, unpractised manner. The air was filled with the sounds of weeping and bawling babies.

Bubbles had been to the main superstores in the main city. Most fresh food was off, but there were plenty of processed goods. So while no one's health was going to be good, no one was going to starve for a while.

"We need to get back out into the farms," Blossom was instructing her sister whilst they over looked the handing out of supplies. "We can't stay fed on Twinkies and tinned beans."

Bubbles nodded and looked over to the babies and toddlers. They would need real food, and soon.

"But the farms are so far away."

"It's fine," replied Blossom with certainty. "We will learn how to grow food ourselves, eventually. But for now, we need to focus on getting real food quickly." She gestured to some of the children in charge of handing out supplies, "we have some smart kids here. Including Mitch and the Ruffs, I'd say a lot of us have really pulled through this and are showing some real positive signs. I reckon we can get to the farms, a lot of us, in an orderly manner and pull up some grub. We would have to carry a lot of it ourselves, because they're physically so weak. But still."

Bubbles looked over the area with new eyes, "I suppose the community spirit right now is pretty cool."

Blossom grinned, "yeah, totally. Mitch is helping, the Ruffs are helping. Maybe out there somewhere Princess is helping the poor and hungry in her area."

"We should find her and all the others. They must be so scared. And...and waiting for us to save them."

"We will." Blossom looked at her sister again and held her gaze. "We will Bubbles. We will save as many as we possibly can as soon as we can."

A girl with brown pigtails ran up to them. "Hey guys, Mitch is back." She paused before adding cautiously, "he looks exhausted."

The Puffs looked at each other meaningfully, Mitch had been on bike and shouldn't be tired after such a short journey. They thanked her and flew over the hoards of children to the edge of the street where Mitch was parked.

Sure enough he did look tired. His eyes had red rims, and his face seemed in more sunken. He grimaced and indicated for them all to move away from the crowds where someone might over hear them. Away and in the darkening twilight Mitch hissed at them, "there is no one answering."

"What? Well, did you pick up anyone else's radio station? Citysville or-?"

"No," he interrupted, "there is no one. No radio waves, no one answering, no one calling out. There was just me."

They were silent for a moment until Bubbles started, "they stopped us from going out. Locked us in. But they didn't stop the dogs, or the mice, or birds or...or any of the animals."

At once all three looked up at the tree branches. No one had seen any birds in days, or squirrels or any other animal. The only animals they had spotted were dead pets. Mostly dogs.

None of these things had been banned from the border. No one would have watched out for animals. They easily would have crossed between the barriers, unknowingly spreading the disease.

Blossom crouched to the floor as if doubled over in pain, the enormity of their predicament hitting her full force.

"Oh dear god," she whispered, uncharacteristically cursing, "I think...I think I'm going to be sick..."

xxXXxx

Meanwhile, the Ruffs had found the small poisonous vial.

"Good," barked Buttercup when they showed her, not sounding unlike Blossom. "Now we're one step closer to saving Townsville."

Heaving up the unconscious Mr Smith, and Brick tucking the vial away in his inner jacket pocket, the three burst through the ceiling into the storm and out back to the suburbs.

"Professor?" Blossom stepped into her father's room quietly. The Professor lay in bed. He was very still. She came closer and touched his hand softly. It was still warm. Gulping, she turned her hand around his wrist so that she could feel his pulse. She let out a relieved gasp. His pulse was still beating. Wiping a few tears from her eyes, she sat up on his bed. "Professor, we have the poison, which means we can make a cure. But we need your help."

As she brushed his lank, sweaty fringe from his forehead he opened his dark eyes. "You found the poison? The original?"

"Yeah," she responded, her voice very high and cracking. It destroyed her to see him so weak.

"I don't think I can get up, but I will give you instructions. Will you be able to do it?"

"Of course," she coughed, allowing the lump in her throat to disappear a little and letting the strength enter her voice once more. "Just lead the way. We'll follow you."

He smiled up at her, his handsome face as gentle and kind as it ever was. "I love you, Blossom, more than I could ever say." With effort he lifted an arm and stroked her face gently. "I wanted to see you grow up; to have arguments with you about your curfew and dating; to see you go to university; to walk you down the aisle; to hold my grandchildren. I wanted that so badly," his voice was barely a whisper. "But lying in this bed, feeling myself fading away little by little each day I realise how lucky I am. I had you, even for a few years, and those years have been full of laughter and joy and happiness, all thanks to you and your sisters. Thank you Blossom, thank you so much for just being who you are. I love you and Bubbles and Buttercup and I don't think I truly lived until you three came into my life. The day you were born was the day I was born. Truly you girls were gifts from heaven."

Outside of the professor's room, Buttercup and Bubbles stood silently. They heard everything. Both of them cried quietly, each girl trapped in her own world of grief.

"You'll do all those things," wept Blossom, "you will hold your grandchildren, you will walk us down the aisle or see us go to university, or any of those things we choose to do. You will see it, daddy, I swear." She leant down and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Tell me, what's the first thing we need to do?"

xxXXxx

It took four days and five nights before something like a cure was found. Many of the adults had already passed on, and their bodies had been buried deep under the ground as the girls had feared that burning the bodies would only help the disease become airborne.

For everyday they worked on the cure, Mitch went to the radio tower and tried to make contact with someone. As far as the children could tell, they were the only people in all America. The kids didn't tend to bother Mitch too much. More and more children were becoming like him, orphans that were lost, alone and disturbingly quiet. Everyday Mitch went to the radio tower alone and he stayed alone until it was dark. He wanted the silence and the loneliness, it seemed. In any case he never complained, and they didn't judge him for his newly acquired strangeness.

"I think he might be going crazy," Bubbles had whispered to her sisters one night, feeling guilty as she did so. "Or he's close to going crazy. We should do something."

"Like what?" complained Buttercup, "also, how do we know he's telling the truth about there being no contact from the outside world?"

"Why would he lie?" Blossom huffed and pulled the covers over her shoulders, accidentally removing it from her sisters as she did so.

"Because he's going..."

"Shut up Bubbles, he's doing ok. It was really bad what happened to his family. I was there...you guys weren't." Blossom turned her back to her sisters so that they wouldn't see the single tear slip from her eye.

There was a brief pause before Buttercup rasped, "we might not have been there but we hear the nightmares." Blossom felt a warm pair of arms wrapping around her torso and pulling her into a hug. "We know it was bad, which is why we want Mitch to start talking again. He needs help and while he's refusing to get that he is someone we can't fully rely on."

Blossom sniffed and took in a deep breath, hoping her voice did not waver, "Mitch is dealing with it the best he can. He needs to be alone and we need to respect that. If there was an adult here I'd advocate counselling, I would for all out troops, but there are no adults fit enough and none of us can help Mitch or the other orphans. We just have to give them space."

"I hope you don't think I was being mean," a high pitch whisper was emitted by Bubbles, "I'm just worried. I don't want any more fractions, I feel like we're all falling apart."

"Yeah, there is a lot of anger and resentment," the red head sighed, "but let's keep it together. Until we get any clear evidence that Mitch is lying, we believe him. He has no reason to lie and so far hasn't acted crazy, just sad, can't blame him for that. Goodnight guys."

"Good night Blossom," chimed to voices in unison.

xxXXxx

Truth was, Mitch knew that he wasn't right and that the others didn't know what to do with him. He felt the same way towards the other orphans. He didn't feel like he understood them or that they understood him; they were just all in their own individual bubble of misery, pain and loneliness.

Mitch wasn't articulate and couldn't explain how he felt. Most of the time he didn't even feel sad anymore, he was just empty. The world had become a flat place of washed out colour and uniform faces. He couldn't tell his friends apart and found that he really didn't care to anyway.

He did realise that he felt worse around other people. At the beginning it wasn't too bad, he had been very involved with the Power Puff girls and had been busy saving other children and doing the best for their parents. But now they were pretty organised, and Mitch had a lot more time on his hands. That's when it hit home how empty and lonely he felt, like something important inside of him had been ripped out and all that was there now was a gaping hole. It made him feel sick. When with other people he felt like a phoney. All the time he had helped the girls, it was only to escape the feeling of nothingness. But now, he figured, he had to simply accept the feeling of nothing, accept it and make it a part of himself, because it wasn't going away.

Sitting on the radio station he looked over the city and at the skyline. The great expanse at one time would have made him feel awe inspired. Now it helped him realise how small he was. Nothing but a putrid piece of flesh on a dying earth, with no one left to love him. He looked over at the radio; there wasn't even anyone out there. He had been calling, despite the doubts Bubbles had expressed to her sister, he had been calling.

Mitch had been telling the truth every time he returned to the suburbs saying that no one was calling back.

xxXXxx

In all the excitement of a potential cure, the children had not forgotten one important thing; there were people who had caused their misery and one of them had been captured. On the night that Mr Smith had been nearly beaten to death, and the Professor had tiredly begun to tell the girls how to create a cure from the poison, Mr Smith had been flown back to the suburbs.

The storm was not as strong in the suburbs, though it was dark and lashing down rain. Regardless of the weather, children were poured out on the streets shouting, cheering and jeering in turns as Buttercup, Butch and Brick explained to them what they had seen and found. Their explanations were poor and hurried, as all of them were still high from adrenaline and anger, all of which demonised Mr Smith even more (as his crime was exaggerated) and gave false hope to the speed of a cure being found. When it came to Mr Smith, a number of children actually wanted to murder him for his crimes, the Rowdy Ruffs included and in the end, the leader of the Power Puffs had to come out in order to prevent a mob war against one man.

"Move out of the way Blossom!" Brick had spat as Blossom stood resolutely in front of the cowering balding man. "These guys deserve their revenge! He killed their parents!"

The children cheered and whooped, much to Blossoms annoyance.

She bit the inside of her cheek and waited until the mob had died down. "We can't start executing people." She stated clearly and simply. "We still live in the USA, we still follow the rules set down for us. In this state we do not execute. To go against the Constitution and to begin reigning down a mob law would be us spitting on the faces of our forefathers and ignoring the way our parents raised us. Like Americans we will have a trial. It won't be a typical one, we're all angry and we're all biased. However, we will give Mr Smith a chance to speak and a chance to defend himself. Then, together, we will meet a decision on how to deal with the situation from there. Do we agree?"

The children nodded here and there, though many were still scowling and looking rebellious. "It'll only be a short time before some will begin to turn against us," she thought to herself. She looked over to Brick, whose arms were folded in defiance. "I wonder if he and his brothers will go against us as well." For some reason this thought caused a particularly sharp pang in her chest, but she brushed it away and ordered Mr Smith to be taken to a house cleaned up and given till tomorrow to work out what he could say in his defence.

She asked Buttercup to guard his door, and, in a strange move, allowed Boomer to guard him also. To her surprise, Boomer agreed readily.

"I don't want the guy to die," he said to her, "I want to hear him. It's like..." he looked into the distance, his face going blank suddenly. Blossom figured that it was his 'thinking' face. "It's like just letting him die wouldn't help anything," he finally concluded, looking a little proud of himself, "I would rather him have to pay us back properly...um...somehow...does that make sense?" he rubbed the back of his head and Blossom chuckled breathlessly at his furrowed eyebrows.

"It makes sense, what you want Boomer is for him to take responsibility. Besides, maybe he can help us with finding a cure."

He grinned brightly and walked off with Mr Smith and Buttercup, Buttercup raising a single eyebrow at Blossom at his jaunty cheerfulness.

xxXXxx

Bubbles looked over Mr Smith. In the short two months the children had been left alone, Bubbles had found she was most adept with the smaller children and in helping those with medical injuries. At first she found some of it a bit gross, but her concern for people had taken over her squeamishness.

"Thank you Bubbles," said Mr Smith as she dabbed away the blood from the corner of his eye. A nasty swelling was turning purple there. By the time morning would come, he would be almost unrecognisable.

"They gave you a real beating huh?" She responded.

"Yeah, but I guess I deserve it. I didn't know things would get so bad, you believe me don't you Bubbles?"

She sighed and looked him hard in the face, "what did you think was going to happen when you unleashed that poison?"

"I knew it'd make people ill, but I thought it was nothing more than a cold! I thought it'd wipe some people out and I could go steal some banks and all that normal bad guy stuff, then if I made the antidote, then people would pay me for the cure. It was fool proof...or so I thought."

"A lot of people have been killed," she said quietly returning to his injuries.

He sighed and began to cry softly, "I know," he said, "I know..."

The following morning was cold and grey. They could almost smell the snow that wanted to fall down. In the night, ice had frosted up their windows and across the ground. The Puffs and even the Ruffs had somewhat resentfully woken up early that morning in order to light various fires.

"I hate this," Brick had complained, shivering into his coat and scarf, "it's not even light yet. I hate being a superhero, it sucks."

"It's never been easy being the ones who takes responsibility," Blossom shivered, "but we have to, so suck it up."

Brick had continued to complain to his brothers, regardless of Blossoms preaching, until a few of the older kids came out of their houses and wordlessly began to help them out, bunching up dry sticks and leaves and making them warm drinks. After this had happened, all if Bricks griping stopped.

By the time it was light, everyone was up, eager and anxious for their first trial to begin. Children lined up all over the street, waiting as Buttercup and Butch led out Mr Smith. The children parted like the Red Sea to let them through.

Where a cul-de-sac met its natural end, a large platform used in Townsville central park for bands to play on, was now situated. Upon it stood a small chair in the middle and Blossom and Brick on opposing sides.

Brick glanced at Blossom before stepping forward. Mr Smith sat on his chair and looked out to the young audience. It was surreal, even for him.

"We say it's you who let out this disease that has killed so many people!" cried Brick, pointing dramatically at Mr Smith. "Are you guilty or not guilty?"

Mr Smith squirmed a little in his chair and felt himself beginning to sweat, "I'm guilty of releasing the disease a second time. I'm very sorry."

"Second time round?" queried Blossom, looking up at Brick who simply frowned back at her defiantly.

"Princess was the one who sold it me," he replied, obviously surprised she didn't know this information before, "she used it on some of the dogs in her house and said they got sick. She said it was like having a flu virus. I thought that was all it was. Honest to God I did."

She and the audience looked at Brick, "it's true ok!" He yelled, throwing up his arms in typical dramatic fashion, "when we went looking we started with Princess and she said something about using it on dogs, but she was ranting and raving about servants and her dead parents. So Buttercup punched her and we flew to this guy," he pointed at Smith who huddled into his chair, "who was being totally stupid and going on about how evil he was. So we beat him and bought him here. He had the vial of poison. So we took him."

Blossom nodded, feeling irritated that they (or at least Buttercup) hadn't told her the full story, but dealing with it anyway, "Princess is out there..."

"We should go get her!" someone cried from the crowd.

"Yeah bring her to justice!" shouted another.

"See that's the thing," answered Blossom, "she already is being punished. Her parents died. Her servants will be gone by now as well. We have survived well because of one another. We have grown crops together, worked out why people are dying and even now we are working on a cure. Truly, the cruellest thing we can do is cast out those among us we do not want, or, in Princesses case, leave her out there." She looked at Brick, "how did Princess seem to you, before you punched her?"

"Her clothes were all dirty and I think she was pretty hungry looking."

"In that case, we will have to vote. Raise your hand if you think we should collect her." The audience remained still, save for a few looking around at one another. Blossom felt her heart beating heavily in her chest. She looked over to Buttercup who was standing next to Boomer. Boomer looked overwhelmed and Buttercup looked uncomfortable. Blossom couldn't see Bubbles, as she was inside researching diseases similar to the poison.

"Ok, who thinks we should leave her out there?"

A few hands flew up straight away, but then more and more reluctant ones joined afterwards.

Blossom tightened her lips. "OK, leave her we will, but this is basically a death warrant. Can we all live with that?" There was no answer as she turned slowly back to a pale faced Smith.

"Where are your family?" She asked him.

"I sent them to Citysville while I knew this plan would happen. I'm meant to meet them there in two days time."

"Have you been in contact with them?" She asked, hope in her voice.

"N-no...not for a few weeks now. I just thought the power was down or they hadn't paid the phone bill or something."

"_So Mitch was telling the truth,"_ she thought to herself sadly. She heard a few sniffs behind her in the crowds. She wasn't the only one disappointed. Those who had lost family members had been especially hoping that Mitch was wrong and that at least aunts and uncles and cousins were waiting for them. But it seemed to be not the case.

Blossom faced her people. "As soon as we find an inoculation, a cure to the poison, then we will set up a small group to go beyond the borders in order to discover what has happened elsewhere. But we have to stay here for now, no one panic and run to a new city or town, we might be carriers of the disease and I don't want it spreading because we were acting like cowards.

"As for Mr Smith, I will leave you guys until six o'clock tonight, that's dinner time guys, to decide what we will do with him. Then we will have suggestions and a vote. But remember, we are not killing!"

"No," said Brick snidely from the side, making everyone look at him again, "definitely no killing Saint Blossom, we just allow people to die. That's way more moral." He sauntered away looking a strange mixture of smug and angry.

As Boomer and Buttercup came to recollect Mr Smith, Buttercup reassured Blossom, "don't listen to him, he just loves to be the centre of attention."

Blossom nodded and tried to allow a sardonic smile, but she couldn't. She couldn't because deep down she knew Brick was right.


	6. Chapter 6

The cure probably would have come along faster, only there were a few bumps on the way.

The second night in all the electric in the city failed.

Bubbles and Butch flew over to the power station that controlled the city's electric but as soon as they hit the city centre of Townsville, they understood. Townsville stood at the edge of the sea. It had never caused a problem before; the waters were moderately gentle, and they had floodgates. However, it seemed the floodgates had been badly damaged thanks to the recent storm they had.

Bubbles and Butch found the city covered in dirty, brown water. It was nothing biblical, the water reached perhaps up to the ankles of a grown man, and seemed to be working its way back out to sea. However, it had been enough to damage several power generators underground and had damaged several transmission lines, causing a black out of the entire city centre and the suburbs.

"Is there anyone who could fix this?" Butch queried.

"I don't think so?" murmured Bubbles, "it looks pretty beat up. No kid could fix something this complicated and it's too big for any of the adults when they get better," she reminded herself just in time to say 'when' instead of 'if.'

Butch watched her for sometime before simply nodding his agreement. They took what candles they could carry back to the suburbs, but the latest setback was not taken well by the children.

"It's nearly winter!"a girl called Caroline shrieked, her baby brother fretting in her thin arms, "how can we cope with the cold?"

"We'll set fires," griped Brick, speaking to her as if she were an idiot, "you guys have _us_, we have lasers that shoot out of our eyes." To add demonstration he shot a piece of wood, immediately lighting it up in happy flames. The children began to circle it holding out their hands and enjoying its warm fiery licks.

Brick patted her on her head somewhat condescendingly. "You'll be ok," he emphasised, "we'll make sure of it."

"It gets dark around half four in the winter," Buttercup said turning to Blossom. The girls were leaning out a second floor window, watching Brick, Boomer and Bubbles below with the other children. "We'll probably end up going to bed a lot earlier than normal. In the dark we can't do much work, and I don't feel like setting up fires all night for lighting. Oh man," she rolled her large green eyes, "what will we do about all the kids who are scared of the dark? We can't help them all by having them stay with us, night lights won't work and they won't be able to snuggle up to their injured and sick parents."

"I guess they'll just have to get used to it," Blossom turned to her dark-haired sister, "going to bed early maybe a good idea. I think a lot of kids here are getting depressed and working all hours at the land trying to grow stuff isn't entirely helping at the moment. Maybe they need some rest and recuperation."

"There's nothing growing now anyway," griped Buttercup, "we're going to have to live off jams and tin food for the next few months at least."

Blossom nodded, her eyes back on the people below. "Yes, yes we will."

xxXXxx

Finally, when the Professor was well enough to begin walking, and a few other adults were starting to wake up out of their intense illness, Blossom decided to take a few out to the borders to see what they could find.

"What if there's nothing there," Brick had asked her the night before they were due to leave, "what if we get there and everything is dead, destroyed or burned down to the ground?"

"I'm betting you and your brothers would love it," she replied wryly not sure if she was joking or criticising. In any case, Brick didn't laugh.

"Well, I think like everyone we've had to grow up a little," he responded haughtily, "I never thought the world could actually be destroyed, parts of it maybe, but not the whole thing. America could be a third world nation now if this thing has spread. If the illness has gotten out into the world, then it's Armageddon."

Blossom shook her head, "I think Armageddon's already happened. I think we're stuck with the aftermath now."

Quietly, they both leaned back on the roof top they were sitting on and together they watched the sun setting; nature being the only thing of beauty left in the world.

xxXXxx

The following morning they set out, fifteen kids in all ranging from ten to seven years old. The rest stayed at home. Most of the surviving adults were still too ill to travel, and the younger children would move too slowly. If they were met by hostile forces on the border, the children would need to move fast. They were well aware that they had essentially been locked in Townsville and left to their doom; there was no doubt in anyone's mind that soldiers or even frightened people with guns, would shoot at them thinking they were carriers of the disease.

Bubbles stayed at home as she had become leader of the distribution of all food, medicine and goods such as toilet paper. Buttercup also stayed in order to keep the peace; even in the midst of disaster people were squabbling and becoming displeased with the running of things. The girls quietly believed that it would not be long before rivals would rise up and begin claiming their own off-shoot followers before becoming the dictators and despots of the new world.

They set off at five thirty, taking a can of beans and a chunk of bread each; it was the maximum of what they could afford. Perishables were quickly running out, and the recent weather which had damaged flood gates had also managed to ruin any land that was too close to the ocean. The midlands were definitely dryer, but it took longer for the children to get there. There had been talk of moving, but with the adults bedridden, it just wasn't possible. Also, many of the children were already too traumatised and unwilling to leave the faux-safety of their family homes.

The kids saddled up on their bikes, Brick and Blossom leading. Mitch was one of the ones travelling with them. The children in general distrusted Mitch; he was a loner and pretty strange. However, the Ruffs and Puffs knew his situation, and knew how much help he had given to the community by trying to find anyone outside of Townsville. They were pretty happy that he had wanted to come at all; since the parents were slowly getting better, Mitch's character had cheered up slightly, and in the minds of the Puffs, they hoped that he was slowly coming round to reconnecting with the world.

They rode their bikes for what must have been an hour, maybe a little more, in complete silence. The fields were beautiful, but there were a lot of corpses on animals that kind of ruined the effect. Riding was sometimes slow as there were often dead animals and dead birds on the road they were on.

As they got to the edges of Townsville they saw that the roads leading out had been barricaded with police blockades. They stood empty, litter and burnt out cigarettes and even guns were all left on the floor.

"You smell that?" asked Brick quietly.

Mitch nodded, "yeah, it's what central Townsville stinks like. It's dead bodies."

The children cycled closer, before seeing what looked like a sea of bloated, rotting corpses. Within moments the sounds was alive with the more innocent kids retching.

"This is bad," said Blossom, "if it was as simple as the disease getting out, then I would expect this blockade to be empty and the hospitals and the graveyards to be full. But look at this, these men and women died on the streets as our people died in their cars trying to get home. It means that the disease is as out of control out there as it was back home."

"Well, we have a cure now," Brick said slowly, "so we just make more and hopefully begin curing everyone."

"But how much of the world is left for us to save?" asked Mitch. "We'll have to form new governments. This is basically a post apocalyptic world."

"What?" scoffed Brick, "don't be so over the top!"

"He's right," said Blossom, "there was this thing we learned about in school," (Brick rolled his eyes), "long ago there was a disease called The Black Death. No one knew what it was or what it came from, not at the time anyway, and it killed a huge proportion of people off in Europe. After that, Europe changed completely, the rich tried going back to normal, tried forcing the establishment and the classes the same, but it just didn't happen. In the end, everything changed because it had to. Now we aren't speaking of Europe, but possibly the world."

"Then what's the plan?" The three kids turned to see one of the other children, a brave boy called Billy, looking up at them, "what do we do now? It's clear that almost everyone is dead, is there any point going further?"

"No," said Blossom, "the plan is this, we scout out the place for any food and possible survivors. We will get paints and we'll make signs all over the walls advertising our little home as the place for the cure. Then we go home before sunset. We wait until the adults are stronger, then we take the Professor somewhere central where we can start making the cure en masse."

"What if we get weirdo's coming to the suburbs?"

"You guys have us and the Ruffs on your side, don't worry, we'll be fine."

* * *

**A.N.- What kind of ending would you all like, btw? I was thinking of doing either a timeskip (jumping x amoutn of years into the future to see what happened) or writing it all out, (which would either make this story longer, or would be a sequel) what would you like?**

**I have plans to bring back a Mr Mojo Jojo soon, I think he's 'Odin's sleep' (Jojo's sleep?) has gone on long enough.**

**Also, are there any pairings you all would like? ;)**


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